Disclaimer: Do I own it? Alas, I do not!

Chapter 3

December 21st

"Urgghhh," Miles groaned. Head pounding and stomach swirling, this hangover was definitely the worst of both his life and unlife. "Unfair, unfair, unfair," he muttered, turning over slowly. He was dead, wasn't a hangover overkill?

"Call it divine retribution, babe," he heard Naomi mock, crawling away from where she had been spooned against him. "If you're going to vomit, kindly do it in the bathroom."

"Love you too, 'Mi. What the hell happened?"

"Well genius, remember when you decided that the best way to introduce Dan and Charlotte was a drunken hookup?" He nodded slowly, trying to judge how much he could move without feeling nauseous. He felt the bed rise as Naomi got up. "Well the only person that got drunk last night was you. Dan dragged your sorry arse back here around midnight."

Sunlight filled the room as Naomi raised the blinds on the double window across from the bed. "Christ Naomi, are you trying to friggen blind me?"

"Consider it your punishment for being a complete and utter wanker," she snapped, sitting back down next to him. She slipped her hand within his. "You've got four days, Straume, what are you gonna do?"

She was quieter now; he could hear the worry in her voice. Stretching, he tried to overcome the pounding in his head to think clearly. He hated seeing her like this. Quite honestly, it freaked him out.

"Well, tonight's our regular night out with Charlotte."

"Any way we can get Dan there?" Naomi asked.

"We?"

"Yes, we. Clearly, you're going to need some help with this." Naomi smiled. "Now, how do we get Dan to show up?"

"We don't," he said with a sigh, feeling defeated. He did not want to be left here alone without Naomi. Not after they figured out what they never had a chance to realize when they were alive. "Dan's got a-"

Then it his him. "'Mi, I've got it. Tell Charlotte we're not going to the usual place. Vincent's on Fourth. Eight o'clock."

OOO

"You got everything you need, man?" Mike asked, leaning over the bar to shake his hand.

Daniel glanced over his shoulder, checking his arrangement on the stage one last time. Piano in place, stand light in working order to light his sheet music. "Yeah, I should be all set."

"I really appreciate this, Dan. Since our old act backed out on us… and Walt's been raving about you since that concert you gave at his school. If everything works out tonight, I'd definitely like to talk future gigs. If you're interested that is."

Dan smiled. "I appreciate it."

Returning to his piano on the stage, he glanced around the club. It was upscale, with circular mahogany tables decorating the edges of a wooden dance floor, dimly lit by low hanging Tiffany-esque stained glass lights. Like something out of a Studio 54-era movie, Dan could easily imagine the likes of Ingrid Bergman and Clark Gable drinking and dancing late into the night here.

It was the perfect venue to make his first foray into jazz music. Classical would always be his first love, but he couldn't resist the desire to diversify, and the creative process imbued in jazz allowed him that. His first test subjects, a group of middle schoolers that needed an accompanist during their annual play, hadn't run screaming in misery and horror, which he took as a good sign.

That was where he'd met Walt, who had mentioned his father's club was looking for a new act. Two phone calls later, Dan had scored his first gig here at Vincent's.

Sliding into his piano bench, he looked out over the audience. It was a younger crowd, late twenties to early thirties. Most looked like business professionals who had money for a nice night out on the town- not the struggling, starving artists who frequented his gigs. He glanced around, looking for a familiar face. Dan had mentioned the gig to Miles, but knew that he was normally out with other friends tonight; a sort of weekly tradition.

Which was why, when the nightclub door swung open and Naomi and Miles entered, he was surprised. Naomi smiled- well, more smirked, but that was Naomi- and gave a little wave as she was ushered to a table. Miles, meanwhile, approached the bar, shaking Mike's hand before placing his drink order. Is there anyone he doesn't know? Dan silently wondered, still holding his minor lifelong grudge against his friend's superior social skills.

Laughing at his ridiculous behavior, he responded to Naomi's greeting with a smile, and launched into his set.

OOO

"Thank you!" Charlotte shouted into the taxi before slamming the door shut, checking to make sure her cardigan hadn't gotten stuck in the door. Served her right for not checking her voice mail earlier. She'd shown up downtown at their regular haunt, the Hyperion Tavern, and waited around almost twenty minutes assuming that Miles had been caught on a 911 call. It hadn't dawned on her to actually check her voice mail, where a message from Naomi had been waiting.

Slipping in the door, she handed her ID to the burly bouncer and scanned the tables for Naomi and Miles. She found them toward the front, an extra beer waiting for her. Their attention was directed to the stage, lit by a single spotlight and several floor lights, illuminating a man on baby grand piano.

He was slouched over the keys, eyes staring off into space, despite the fact that there was sheet music in front of him. A fedora was pushed low on his forehead, keeping his face hidden, though his hair poked out the bottom. His hands moved quickly on the ivory, dancing as he seamlessly performed the disjointed chords that somehow resulted in a cacophonous melody. Jazz wasn't really her favorite genre- she was much more partial to oldies from the sixties and seventies- but thus far, she was impressed.

Reclaiming her ID from the bouncer, she moved quickly across the floor, trying not to disrupt anyone's view of the concert. "Hey! Sorry I'm late," she whispered loudly, sliding into her seat. Miles and Naomi both turned, whispering their hellos in return.

"Why the sudden change?" she asked curiously. Hyperion had been their bar of choice for over a year now.

The song came to an end before they could answer, and scattered applause erupted from those patrons not too busy chatting or enjoying their drinks to hear the music. Miles let out a loud whoop and started fist pumping, drawing attention from those around him.

Does he always have to be that guy? Charlotte mused. She rolled her eyes, hissing, "It wasn't that good," more to shut Miles up than anything else. She honestly was quite enjoying the music.

The pianist turned around to look in their direction. Surprise overtook her as she recognized Daniel, Miles's personal escort from the museum the previous night. She felt herself blushing, embarrassed at her comment. Miles stuck his tongue out. "Be nice, Charlotte, we're all friends here."

Her only response was a single finger. Miles got the message.

OOO

The last chord dissipated over the sound of the crowd, and one last round of applause emerged from the crowd. Unsure of what to do, he took a quick bow, waving awkwardly to the crowd. At his table, he saw Miles laughing, giving him two thumbs up and signaling at the empty chair. With a quick smile and a final bow, Daniel jumped off stage and strode to the bar, grabbing the beer that Mike had waiting for him.

"Dude, that was fantastic," Miles congratulated him, slapping him on the back as he took his seat.

Naomi nodded in agreement. "Jazz suits you, Dan. Though you could have tossed in a Christmas song or two. It is the most wonderful time of the year after all," she teased. "You've met Charlotte Lewis, correct? She works with Miles's father at the museum."

The sudden change in topic caught him off guard, and he realized he hadn't noticed the third person sitting at the table. He smiled, trying not to show that he hadn't noticed her. "How are you?"

Charlotte placed her beer back on the table, wiping a stray drop from her lower lip with the side of her hand and pushing her straightened hair behind her ears. In the dim light of the bar, it was a simple, yet shockingly alluring, action. "I'm well," she replied. "You're music is wonderful."

"Thank—"

The sound of glass slamming the table interrupted his thought, causing him to jump. Across the table, he noticed Charlotte had too.

"I need another beer," Miles announced loudly. Naomi was glowering, looking as if she was trying to choose between killing Miles now, or inflicting a slow, torturous death upon him.

"Let me buy you one, darling," she said between clenched teeth. "Would you excuse us?"

There was utter silence, and he gulped at his beer. Without Miles's antics, and despite his triumph over the crowd at the bar, he felt his confidence fleeing. Before Theresa, he'd never been the most self-assured guy around women, and since his unceremonious dumping, he was probably even less so. Glancing over at Charlotte, he saw her eyes darting about, from bar to ceiling to floor, tilting her beer back and forth as the liquid got dangerously close to spilling over.

She felt just as awkward as he did. It was a shocking realization, one he never anticipated coming to, and it gave him the courage to say, "At least we can always count on Miles for entertainment."

Start small, start familiar. You just have to make conversation until those two come back. It's not like this is a date or anything. This is just another one of Miles's friends. Sipping his beer, he hoped his mental pep talk would help.

Charlotte smirked. "I'm about ninety-eight percent certain Naomi is just as mental. She just hides it better."

Daniel felt himself laugh loudly, beer shooting out his nose. Wiping the beer off his face, he glanced at Charlotte, expecting to see her walk away in disgust. Instead, she was gaping in shock, cheeks crinkling up as she tried to suppress laughter.

"You so did that on purpose," he accused, tone light to ensure she knew he was joking. With that she broke down into hysterics.

"Bloody hell, I could only wish I did," she shot back. Their laughter subsided, and they were quiet again. "I really did enjoy your music, Dan. Miles had said you were playing tonight, and I knew you were a classical pianist... it was unexpected." She paused. "That came out wrong. I'm sorry. You play beautifully."

Daniel smiled, understanding exactly what she was trying to say, despite her inability to say it. "Thank you. So Miles tells me you're an archeologist. Raid any good tombs lately?"

OOO

"Another round!" Miles demanded, giving Michael a cocky smile. "For little victories."

"Little is an understatement," Naomi muttered, slamming her own empty shot glass down as the whisky burned her throat.

Michael smiled, handing them another round. "I'm cutting you two off after this. You may have them speaking, but they still are living in an oblivious little fairytale."

Miles threw back the drink, rolling his eyes. Knowing both of his friends, had they been super uncomfortable together, they would have joined him and Naomi at the bar. Seeing them still sitting at the table, chatting comfortably though their beers had long since emptied, was reassuring. But just in case, he had a backup plan. When didn't he?

"Don't worry, don't worry. I've got it covered. How you feel about a double date tomorrow night, 'Mi?"

Hey all! Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up. I'm just finishing up my Christmas vacation, it's been amazing being back with my family! Thanks to everyone who read the previous chapter, and especially those who reviewed: Unidentified Pineapples, Dr. Giggles, LittleMissBones, Golden-Black Dragon, pani zagloba, Stefy Abbott, and Elyad. I'm so glad you're all enjoying the story! I've gotten a bit behind on personal responses to reviews, but I should be able to get them out for this chapter. I truly do appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you think!

Also, for those interested, I have two published banners for this story up on my blog. You can check them out on the link on my profile!

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think! Constructive criticism is always appreciated! Best- Jac